


there on a balcony in summer air

by philthestone



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: F/M, i cant deal with the finale's sadness so i wrote soft happy things instead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 03:29:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11073132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philthestone/pseuds/philthestone
Summary: Jake’s pretty sure that that movie doesn’t actually exist, but the concept of it is kind of terrifying, because what if heisRandom Wrong Fiance No. 23? Except instead of Matthew McConaughey ruining things, the ceiling falls in, or Amy gets abducted by aliens. Or worst,Charlesgets abducted by aliens. Or evenworst, Gina’sbabygets abducted by aliens.That would definitely be the worst of all, Jake thinks, because Gina would never let any of them forget that her progeny was probably the youngest person ever to do space travel.





	there on a balcony in summer air

**Author's Note:**

> hahaha folks finale what finale did u know that jake and amy are actually married and living happily together and that whole thing was just a very bad dream
> 
> reviews are dan goor letting them rest. let them rest dan goor, please,
> 
> (title's from taylor swift [peace sign emoji])

Considering how much the general universe seems to specifically have it out to ruin his life, Jake thinks that he’s been having a pretty amazing day so far. 

Of course, it _is_ his wedding day, so it’s inherently supposed to be a good one, unless he’s the generic fiance from all those rom coms who isn’t _right_ for spunky Jennifer Garner and Matthew McConaughey is scheduled to burst through the doors roughly three hours ago yelling _I object_. Jake’s pretty sure that that movie doesn’t actually exist, but the _concept_ of it is kind of terrifying, because what if he _is_ Random Wrong Fiance No. 23, except instead of Matthew McConaughey ruining things, the ceiling falls in, or Amy gets abducted by aliens. Or worst, _Charles_ gets abducted by aliens. Or even _worst_ , Gina’s _baby_ gets abducted by aliens.

That would definitely be the worst of all, Jake thinks, because Gina would never let any of them forget that her progeny was probably the youngest person ever to do space travel.

Jake’s _point_ , he thinks, getting back on topic – he should really be concentrating on his dancing, because he and Amy nearly just crashed into Holt and his mom doing the tango, which, _wow_ , that’s making him emotional, _look at the ceiling, Jake_ – God, anyways. There’s gotta be a rule, somewhere, is what Jake’s trying to say. A rule, somewhere in the universe, right, that wedding days are _off limits_ for terrible awful no-good bad stuff to happen. If it’s not a rule already, he’s making it a rule. 

Or like, maybe Amy could make it a rule, because she’s a Sergeant now, so she has more authority than him.

Something – something like that.

That being said, it’s not like the universe hasn’t _tried_ to derail this monumentous occasion _(yes Amy, monumentous is a word, I didn’t mean monumental, I looked it up on the dictionary app – yes a reliable one, no, my voice is not cracking like it does when I’m telling a lie –_ )

It’s not like there haven’t already been some hardcore attempts at _day-derailing_ , is all he’s saying, so maybe the rule thing is just wishful thinking on Jake’s part. Thus far, from eight forty-two this morning all the way until exactly two minutes ago when Charles burst into tears over the remains of the wedding cake again, approximately five near-catastrophes have occurred. At _least_ five. If not more. Jake can’t remember if there were more or less, so he makes a mental list, just to be sure.

(It’s times like this where he is so incredibly grateful that Amy has rubbed off on him. Lists, and an enthusiastic introduction into reading sad Harry Potter fanfiction on your phone in the dark past midnight when you’re feeling particularly in need of a good cry.)

 _Anyways_. The List:

1\. A couch caught fire

2\. Amy’s uber-Catholic great aunt Tia Maria nearly threw a personal pocket Bible at the Rabbi

3\. Algernon the mouse returned from the assumed-dead, striking nostalgia and tearfulness into the hearts of many

4\. His dad didn’t show up, which was objectively fine, Jake _dealt_ with it, even if Holt _did_ have to give him a thirteen minute-and-fifty-two-second-long “I’m proud of you” pep talk and a hug that lasted two whole mississipis for that dealing to happen

5\. Doug Judy showed up to the reception, sometime between finger foods and wedding cake, which was also objectively fine, because, like, absolved of past crimes or whatever, except Jake is pretty sure he was – is – a little stoned, even if he is currently providing live entertainment to all the guests in the form of crooning out outdated pop-songs into the mic up on stage.

Five items exactly – thanks, List. All in all, Jake thinks that they’ve done pretty good, handling things. No one’s been threatened with death, or had to go undercover in a mob, or been sent to jail, or actually died or, God forbid, been _promoted_. Thinks are chill. And hell, even their dancing is, according to Gina, semi-acceptable; Amy’s only stepped on his foot like two and a half times.

Jake’s stepped on his _own_ feet like five times, just because he keeps getting distracted by how breathtakingly beautiful Amy is (like a princess from an iconic Anne Hathaway film), and how nice she smells (like vanilla and roses, same as always), and how her glossy dark hair is finally slipping out of its soft updo, now close to the end of the evening after a long, long day. Little strands are wisping around her neck, swaying and bouncing with every semi-hesitant dance move she makes. She’s concentrating, her eyebrows adorably creased, which is hilarious because it’s probably the first time all evening she’s actually so serious about dancing (except for her dance with Holt, which involved a methodic counting of the steps that Jake could hear from all the way up at their table, and a smile on her face that looked like it could light up the sun itself) – but like, seriously, she’s been tripping around all night and she hasn’t even second-guessed herself _once_ , which Jake thinks privately is the most amazing thing he’s ever witnessed, it makes his heart funny and light in his chest just thinking about it, and he wishes he could make her feel comfortable and happy enough to do that all the time, always.

To be fair, the champagne probably helped with the earlier easiness, and it might be wearing off a bit by now – and they’re maybe sort of dancing to Taylor Swift, which could contribute to the gravity of the situation.

 _God_ , thinks Jake, he loves her.

 _God_ , thinks Jake, once more – she could have stepped on his foot over a _million_ times and he wouldn’t even notice, he loves her _so much_.

“Jake?”

“Mm?”

“You’re staring again, weirdo.”

“I was, uh, making a list,” Jake tells her, very seriously, hoping that his voice doesn’t crack, with the – with it all. With _it_. Amy’s Serious Face has softened into something else, something more coloured with amusement, more sparkling – no, wait, that’s a smudge of Gina’s makeup on her cheek – but in her long white dress, with her hair curling and long and her eyes still half-intense against her brown skin, she looks, Jake decides, not quite like an Anne Hathaway princess but more kind of like a warrior princess. Like maybe Lady Sif from Thor, only Latina.

And it’s doing things to Jake’s chest. He just _married_ a warrior princess. Marriage. Wedding. Be-wedded. Holy crap. 

“Lists," says Jake. "Listing. In my head.”

Predictably, Amy’s eyes immediately light up, even more than they are already lit (he knows _words_ , he can form _sentences_ ) and she grins and leans in, hands gripping more tightly at his shoulders.

“Ooooh, what kind?” 

“Well –”

“No, wait, let me guess – was it alphabetical? Or did you organize it by seriousness of item, that’s a new concept I’ve been considering – or colour coordinated! You can do that in your head if you try hard enough, you have to establish a coding system –”

“It was sort of maybe a little bit an In No Particular Order kinda list,” says Jake, his heart full, shimming a little to the side as Doug Judy sings the closing lines of Taylor’s _You Belong With Me_ into the mic. “But it had a title! And stuff!”

Amy narrows her beautiful warrior-princess eyes. “Was it informative enough? You know how important titles are.”

“It was called, ‘The List’,” says Jake, solemnly.

Amy sighs, dramatically, and steps on his foot again. He’s not sure if it’s on purpose this time – he wouldn’t put it past her.

“You can’t win ‘em all, I guess,” she says. “So what was it about?”

“All the near-catastrophes we’ve had today,” Jake says, bouncing his shoulders a little bit. “These are some smooth dance moves, Ames.”

“I watched a Youtube video,” she says cheerfully – _noice_ , thinks Jake, _I love you_ – “and hm. Did you include the return of Algernon?”

“ _Obviously_ ,” says Jake. “Hey, do you think Nicolaj almost falling into the wedding cake counts as a near-catastrophe?”

Amy steps out, and steps in, and steps out again, and very faintly wiggles her butt. _Thanks, Youtube_.

“Jake,” she says.

“Yes, of course, you are absolutely one hundred percent right, on the list it goes.” Jake pauses. “Damn. That’s six things, I thought I was getting better at this whole math thing.”

“You mis-counted the number of near-catastrophes we’ve had?”

“I got five out of six!” says Jake, lifting his hands automatically and forgetting that he’s holding hers in one, and has the other up against her ribs, which means he just accidentally poked her boob in public. “Oop, sorry, that was not awkward at all.”

Amy bites at her lip; she’s got that look slowly growing on her face, _that look_ , the one that means she’s trying really hard not to laugh specifically because of him and it’s going dubiously successfully. Jake loves that look. It makes her eyes light up, all big and bright and beautiful, and that always gives her away.

“You’re such a dork,” she says, when he says this out loud. “And stop changing the subject. You’re terrible at making lists, Jake.”

“ _You’re_ terrible at making lists,” he says, a knee-jerk reaction. “Wow, that was the falsest thing I have ever said in my life.” 

Amy steps on his foot again, and this time it is _definitely_ on purpose.

 _God_ , Jake loves her.

He tells her this out loud, too.

“I love you, too,” says Amy, leaning in a little bit. Her vanilla-rose princess smell is making him feel a little bit floaty; he _knows_ it’s her, because the champagne wore off for him ages ago, too.

“I think Rosa’s doing the macarena in that corner over there with your father,” Jake tells her seriously, in a whisper – that sentence felt whisper-appropriate – also leaning in; if he turns his head, he can press his cheek against the side of her head. It’s a really good thought – a gentle thought, that settles his chest.

He’s _married_ to Amy Santiago. After all this time.

“I bet Gina’s taking a video,” says Amy, softly, too softly for someone who just learned that her very intimidating best friend and father are doing a ridiculous dance routine in public. Jake wonders at this sudden Feeling that neither of them want to disrupt. It’s kind of nice.

“If our wedding was worth one thing,” he says, still whispering, “it was Rosa dancing the macarena with your dad.”

“The cake was nice too.”

“Yeah.” He’s pressing his cheek against her head, now. Her hair is just as soft as it looks, and cool against his flushed skin.

“Hey, Jake?” 

“Yeah?”

(He’s not whispering anymore, but it’s still – _soft_.)

“Getting married to you was also pretty worth it.”

“ _Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone_ ,” sings Doug Judy, far away up on the stage.

Dancing, thinks Jake as he lets go of Amy’s hand and waist and pulls her into a bear hug, is pretty overrated anyway – even if they _are_ doing it pretty smoothly for once. He buries his face in her shoulder and breathes in the vanilla-rosa smell.

“So worth it,” says Jake. “The most worth it thing in the world.”

Amy steps on his foot, stumbling very slightly under the weight of the hug even as she wraps her own arms – warrior princess arms, he thinks – around him tightly, and Jake grins against her neck.

 _God_ , he loves her.


End file.
